You're Safe Here
by InvisibleSpork
Summary: Pre-series. Neal comes to Peter offering information after having been beaten by an art-thief-cum-thug. Peter gives Neal temporary shelter because really, how could he turn him away? Friendship fic. Not slash.


This is actually the first bit I've written for myself and not for a prompt. So hopefully the storyline is still enjoyable.

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Peter had found gifts before. Usually they were small, a few cufflinks, a postcard left on his pillow in a hotel room, a shirt tailored to exactly Peter's measurements. One time he had even returned to his hotel after hours watching Caffrey's apartment to find a warm plate of steak, seasoned asparagus, and potatoes au gratin along with an expensive bottle of Merlot waiting on the table. He had been sorry to see it shipped out for testing. Peter had been chasing him for less than six months, but he knew it was quintessential Caffrey. And coming from anyone else that attention might have felt threatening, but the only feeling he got from Caffrey was an almost flirtatious affection.

When he had returned to New York after that trip, he read the analysis from the forensics department which reported the meal had been free of any poisonous substances. The department also sent their apologies since, while they couldn't speak for presentation as everything had arrived in evidence bags, it looked like it would've been a "bitchin' fine meal." While he couldn't condone Lawrence's choice of words on an official FBI document, he certainly understood the sentiment.

So a year later he was less surprised then he probably should have been when he opened the door of his hotel room to find Caffrey standing by the table with a pizza and a six pack. What _did_ surprise him was Caffrey's manner and appearance. He had never seen Caffrey less than impeccably groomed, brimming with charm and confidence. However, Caffrey's hair had fallen forward into his face and he seemed to be holding himself more carefully tonight. On closer inspection, Peter realized he must have pulled the hair forward to try and hide the bruise blossoming on his left cheekbone.

His first instinct was to corner Caffrey and demand to know who he'd pissed off. That would be the fastest way to send him running. He reigned himself in. Instead he just grinned and rolled his eyes as he threw his jacket over the seat. "My place on a first date, Caffrey? And here I had you pegged as old-fashioned."

Peter saw Caffrey visibly relax as he grinned back, some of the wariness fading from his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about, Peter. You know I've been courting you for over a year."

"Ah, well that explains why we never go anywhere nice anymore. I mean, pizza and beer in a sleazy hotel? Where's all the passion gone?"

"But it's your _favorite_ pizza and beer. That has to count for something."

Peter opened the box and smiled. He probably should find Caffrey's knowledge of him slightly creepy, but he didn't. "Sausage and mushroom. Aw, baby, you know what I like."

Caffrey slid a beer across the table, hiding a wince and surreptitiously rubbing his ribs. "Never let it be said that I don't know how to take care of you."

They ate in companionable silence. Peter knew Caffrey was here for a reason. He also knew he couldn't just come out and ask. He'd have to dance around the topic for the rest of the evening and hope he'd eventually spit it out. God, Caffrey was such a _woman_ sometimes.

"Okay, my plan for tonight was to sit on the couch watching the game and drinking beer. I guess you're welcome to join me since you already let yourself in."

"Actually, I didn't let myself in. The maid let me in. She was very solicitous. Did you know –"

"No. No, I didn't. And to be perfectly honest, I probably don't want to." He walked with Caffrey over to the sofa and watched him ease himself down. "Just sit quietly and watch the game. Think you can handle that, Sparky?" Caffrey simply mimed zipping his mouth and throwing away the key.

They sat and watched the game. Well, actually they sat and Peter watched Caffrey while Caffrey fidgeted and watched nothing. The game finished, and Peter didn't even notice who won. He did, however, notice the one or two or _twelve_ times Caffrey opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it. _Calmly_. What was that Zen crap El tried to teach him? _I am the frozen water in the birdbath_. Or whatever.

Caffrey suddenly got up from the couch, unable to hide his wince at the sudden movement. He hurried to the door, talking as he went. "Well, it was great hanging out. We should do it again sometime. I'll have my people call your people."

Peter shut off Caffrey's escape route before he could leave and trapped him against the door. "Screw subtlety. I've danced to your tune all night, and now you're gonna talk. What is it?"

Caffrey cast a quick look toward the doorknob beneath Peter's hand before determining he wouldn't be able to get out of this conversation. He covered by flashing a blinding smile. "What? I can't just come here to hang out with my favorite FBI stalker?"

"Just tell my why you came here, Caffrey."

Caffrey replied with only the barest hint of hesitation. "Why did _you_ come here?"

Peter suppressed a sigh, resigned to playing Caffrey's game a little longer. Oh, this better be worth it.

"I'm here on a job. We're trying to find a guy named Joseph Hanlin. We were able to track him here, but that's where the trail ends."

The silence hung heavy between them. It looked like Caffrey was trying to get the nerve to speak. When had Caffrey ever lacked the nerve to say everything that came into his head?

"What if I knew where to find Joseph Hanlin? Do you have enough to put him away? For good?"

Peter was silent for a few moments after that bombshell. Well that explained so much. "_Do_ you know where he is?"

"If I did, would you promise to keep this as an anonymous tip? No one can know I told. No matter what, you never tell."

"It's a deal." Peter gently turned Caffrey's face and traced the bruise with a light fingertip. "Neal, is Hanlin the one that did this to you?" Damn it, the kid set off every protective instinct he had. It must be the eyes. And when had he become Neal instead of Caffrey?

Neal spoke quietly to the floor. "Hanlin's a very dangerous man. He's hurt some good people." He looked up at Peter. "Some of my friends."

"And you."

Neal shrugged, trying to downplay his injuries. "Just tell me you can get him." He held out a small sheet of paper with an address which Peter put in his pocket.

"I can get him. Don't worry."

Neal surprised him when he let out a shaky sigh and rested his head on Peter's shoulder. The poor kid was exhausted and in pain. He could feel his entire body shaking. Neal tried to apologize and pull away, but Peter put his arms around him and stroked his hair until he calmed down. He was a criminal, but he wasn't a bad person. And he was in no shape to go out into the city by himself. Oh, Peter knew he was going to regret this.

"Stay here for tonight." Neal stared at him, sure he must have just hallucinated. His FBI stalked had held him while he had a minor meltdown and then offered to put him up for the night? This couldn't be real. So he poked Peter. "Yes, I'm really here. Yes, this just happened. And you have about five seconds before this offer is withdrawn."

Neal looked hesitant. "Are you sure about this?"

"Hell no," Peter responded automatically. "Just stay here until we have Hanlin. I'm not taking any chances."

"Peter, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. But if Hanlin wants you he's got to take a number. Once I get enough evidence, your ass is mine. And no two-bit art thief cum thug is going to take that away from me. Now, when I get back I expect you to be cleaned up and in bed."

"Yes, Dad."

"I'll hear none of that cheek from you, boy," Peter said as he gave Neal a gentle shove towards the bathroom. Neal Caffrey had agreed to stay in an FBI hotel room. God, Hanlin must have scared him but good. Peter promised himself that this would be as unpleasant for Hanlin as he could conceivably make it.

Peter turned as he reached the door. "Neal?"

"Yeah, Peter?"

"You're safe here. I'll make sure of that."

"Yeah, I know." Neal gave him a small smile, weak but the first genuine one of the evening. "And thanks."

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On a side note, the fire alarm in my decrepit old building went off in the middle of this and interrupted my train of thought. I was most displeased. There was no point to that comment, but I felt the need to vent my irritation.


End file.
